


August 1969

by britishshoe



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-11
Updated: 2016-02-07
Packaged: 2018-04-20 05:02:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4774562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/britishshoe/pseuds/britishshoe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>the guys do woodstock</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this is the intro to a fresh AU

"How many people? A couple hundred maybe?" Frank had submitted his parents to a barrage of questions this week, fear eating him up. The thought of his father's land being turned into a hippie orgy gave him more stress than any teen should feel over a music festival.

"Well, Frankie, close to 200,000 tickets have been sold," his mom answered from the kitchen sink.

"JESUS, mom! All those hippies on our land?! How are you two so calm about this?!" He cried as he put his head in his hands, already developing a headache from the noise to come.

"Frank, watch your mouth. The money to be made from this is unbelievable! Not to mention the artists! We'll go down the first night, maybe you'll find some friends for the weekend," his dad had walked into the kitchen wiping his hands on a rag, sweat brimming his brow. The dairy farm had been set up for the event starting this weekend, and Frank had never looked forward to anything less.

"Yeah, I'll go smoke dope and vow off showering for the weekend," he mumbled as he stood from the table and made off for his room.

 

\--------

 

"Aren't you excited, Mikey?!" Gerard was sitting on his suitcase to clasp it shut as his brother was reclining in bed picking through a magazine. 

"Not excited about the early morning," Mikey responded in a dull tone as he flicked his tongue across his thumb.

"Well, I'm driving! Not to mention it's only about three hours," Gerard said as he plopped down in his adjacent bed. They were to be taking the trip to upstate New York from their home in New Jersey, and Gerard was excited to be taking his baby brother to this festival. He had spent all day packing and frankly, had packed everything but the kitchen sink. He now peered over at his brother who had dog-eared his magazine and was sleepily taking his glasses off.

"I guess. As for now, I'm going to sleep, and if you wake me up before 10AM; I'll kill you," the younger boy said as he rolled over onto his side after fluffing his pillow and letting out a long sigh. Gerard looked from him to his bedside lamp, pulling the string to darken the room. He snuggled under his quilt and looked at the wall ahead of him, watching the moonlight and silhouettes of trees flicker off its surface until he fell asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

"Would you rather... eat a tin can or spend three days in a tent with Gerard?" Ray joked leaning up from the back seat, receiving a backhanded push from Gerard himself. 

"Is it too late to pick the former?" Mikey asked back, playing off the banter. They shared a laugh as Gerard rolled his eyes and brushed a hair from his face. 

"Oh, I've got one!" He said with a sarcastic grin on his face. "Would you rather stop being jerks or stay in that field after the three days?"

Ray and Mikey grew quiet for a moment before Ray let a snicker fall from his mouth, initiating the domino effect. 

"But really, we'll all regret Ray's presence most when he inevitably doesn't wash all that hair." He shot again, leaving Mikey cackling and Ray holding his hand to his chest in faux shock. They spent a good portion of the drive making friendly barbs and telling their ideal setlists for the acts. They only had to make two stops, both for snacks, and were making good time. Mikey spit the shell of a sunflower seed out the window as they entered White Lake. 

"I don't know why you don't just get the ones without shells," Ray said as folded his legs beneath him and let his hand trail out the window against the wind.

"Less fun," Mikey garbled, mouth full of seeds. He repeated his seed cracking and spitting pattern until Gerard hit the breaks, nearly causing him to choke.

"G! Do you want me to die?! There are more sufficient ways than that," he shouted as Ray snorted from the backseat.

"Look at this traffic jam, jackass," Gerard said a bit annoyed as he craned his neck out the window to scan the mile-long lineup. "We're gonna have to walk."

"Hey, let's not get crazy here!" Ray piped up, gripping each front seat to poke his head between them.

"We gotta," He responded, pulling the keys from the ignition. He proceeded to leave the vehicle and pop the trunk retrieving his things, throwing bags at his companions who had crawled out of the car just a moment after him. 

"That's gotta be like a mile walk," Ray observed as he slung his backpack over his shoulder and looked forward at the people beginning to get the same idea, running toward the field as if it were the promised lands. He looked to Gerard who had clunky luggage in each hand, hefting them up under his shoulders.

"Then we better stop gabbing to conserve energy," He responded, beginning the trek a few paces ahead of the other two. There was an audible clank of pots and tin cups in one of his suitcases, and Mikey chuckled lightly at the noise. This trip was important to every person around them, but Gerard treated it like a vacation he'd been needing for years. It was unlikely that he would unpack half of the stuff he had during these three days, or in the weeks to follow once he got home and shoved it all under his bed. The thing was, everyone said he belonged in a field. He loved dragging his friends to the countryside, and he loved coming home and listening to records. This was the perfect place for him to be himself, surrounded by strangers that were after something similar. Ray looked at Mikey who abandoned his smile that had fallen upon his sibling scurrying ahead of them. The taller man let out a sigh in exasperation as they neared a grassy area where Gerard had abruptly stopped.

"Perfect," he murmured with a grin, plopping his suitcases down in front of him. He popped the clasps on one of them and pulled out a compressed cloth that would soon become a small shelter for the three of them. The likelihood of them all fitting in it at once was slim but just using it for a beacon of their campsite was enough. They were adjacent a group of people in a bus, and he promptly went looking to make friends as Ray and Mikey made efforts to set up the tent. 

"Hey, I'm Gerard! Over there is my brother Mikey and my best bud Ray!" He began aggressively shaking hands as a couple men offered him smiles and a woman poked her head from the window, grinning down to him. She reached her hand down for him to shake.

"Laura. These two are John and Steven and we have a couple more wandering around," She stated, half her torso dangling down against the frame. They spoke for a moment before exchanging "nice to meet ya!"'s and going about their business, Gerard walking back to his party of three. 

"Dude, she was flirting with you!" Ray quipped immediately as he elbowed his friend in the ribs. He and Mikey were sharing what seemed to be the endless bag of sunflower seeds and only paused their eating to make kissy noises.

"Ah, cram it, guys! I'm not lookin' for that," He deflected before sitting in front of them, inspecting his watch.

"Y'know, people are gonna think you're gay if you keep turning down chicks like that," Mikey stated around his full cheeks. "No one that buxom ever comes out a bus window after me."

"Maybe that's because you're a pig, Michael," Gerard said, squeezing Mikey's cheeks causing him to spit out his snack. "And as for the other thing- don't worry about thinkin' I'm gay until I bring a man home."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that it's been so long. Sorry x2 if this is a bit choppy.

"Would ya look at that..." Frank's dad said to him, looking down at the growing crowd from atop the hill.   
"There's no way not to," Frank responded saltily as he tugged at the elbow of his sleeves. His nerves were overtaking him but he wanted to play it off as annoyance, at least he'd have control over that. The 20,000 people his mom had mentioned had quickly become half a million, which scared Frank on a lot of levels. He noticed that his dad was now slowly finding his way down the hill and he began to do the awkward motions of sliding on his heels and tip toeing down the incline. His father was by now far ahead of him and meandering off to the right. Frank tried to speed up toward him and ended up sliding in a patch of mud, sending himself hurling into another person.   
"Dude, come on!" The now apparent guy yelled, picking up a pair of eyeglasses and wiping them on his shirt.   
"It was an accident, you fucking asshole!" Frank yelled feeling heat in his face. He looked up to see the man looking at him with a cocked eyebrow.   
"Take it easy, little dude, you just startled me. No worries."   
"I most certainly will not 'take it easy', you freeloading punk! Fuck you!"   
Before the man could offer a rebuttal, Frank was stomping off in the direction of his father, making sure to not look back.   
"Mikey!" A voice yelled from the other direction. "Who was that?" Mikey kept his eyes transfixed on Frank who was becoming microscopic in the distance.  
"I wish I could tell ya, man."

\--------

"No way! Not gonna happen!" Asserted Frank as he looked up at his father.   
"It'll be good for ya, son. I'll be back tonight." His dad responded, making his way toward the road leading to their home.  
"You can't just _leave_ me! What am I gonna do all day?!" The boy griped following his father a few steps.   
"Richie Havens goes on in about a half hour. Heard a lot of good things."   
"But dad-"  
"I'm not tellin' ya again, Frank! You can't continue being a negative nellie all weekend! Go meet some of the people that you seem to hate so much." With that he climbed into his truck and drove off, leaving his son arms crossed in the field. It was the middle of the afternoon and fairly warm out, making the situation not only annoying but uncomfortable, leaving him feeling stagnant. Frank rolled up his sleeves and turned around to see the people making their way to the stage. He began following the crowd, arms recrossed as a self defense mechanism. There were plenty of obstacles on the way there, the main one being overly friendly people that wanted to strike up a conversation. He weaved around people to get to the left edge of the crowd, unfortunately leaving him with virtually no view of the stage. By the time everyone had found their place, they began to cheer. The sounds of an acoustic guitar rang into Frank's ears. He stood on the balls of his feet trying to see what all the hullabaloo was for. After a moment, a deep, textured voice accompanied the strumming. Frank began to weave through people again, this time into the crowd and toward the front. It felt like he was moving forever before he could see the man on stage, who was accompanied by a humble group of players. His eyes widened as the guitar became hectic and then slowed down again, allowing the voice room to expand through the crowd. This was a feeling Frank had never had before, not being big on the concert scene. He felt every note in these moments, like he was being ushered into a separate reality. This went on for what felt like no time at all, forever compressed into thirty seconds, before the band filed off stage. Everyone clapped and cheered around him, and he found himself smacking his hands together furiously. There was a ten minute interlude where Frank just thought about the set he had just watched before his eyes were once again focused ahead of him, witnessing something he had never seen before. A man appeared on stage surrounded by several others. They all sat and the man began to speak. Frank understood it to be about spirituality in America. He had never felt more outside of himself in his whole life, with people around him cheering and a stranger before him telling him ideas he had never thought of himself. Everything then became overwhelming, so he retreated out of the crowd a ways, meandering his way out entirely, landing himself ass first on someone's lap after tripping once again.

\--------

"You don't wanna go up further, G?" Ray asked as Gerard ate a sandwich he had packed this morning.   
"Nah not yet. They're all great, don't get me wrong, but I probably won't go up until Ravi Shankar or else I'll run outta steam. You guys can go, though!" He said in fragments around lettuce. Mikey looked at Ray before shrugging.   
"Really wouldn't mind goin' up for Sweetwater," he said waiting for Ray's confirmation.   
"I'll go too, then. Later, G!" The curly headed man said as he made his way to the stage behind his friend. Gerard leaned back on his elbow and watched the same set as his friends, just significantly further back. They did a good job picking the spot off to the side, keeping their camp site intact as people rushed around. About 20 minutes into the set, Gerard had sat up to drink some water and was paying no attention to anyone else when he found himself the landing pad for a short guy who had stumbled into his lap.   
"Jesus!" They yelled simultaneously; Gerard from fear, the other from frustration.   
"I'm sorry," the stranger said as he scurried away from Gerard and scrambled to his feet. He acted like he was gonna make a run for it before Gerard grabbed his arm. "I said I'm sorry, alright!" He yelled as the hand gripped him.   
"I was just gonna ask if you're okay," Gerard said in an even tone, worried he'd scare the guy off.   
"Oh. Yeah, I'm fine," he said pulling away and rubbing his own elbows.  
"What's your name?" G asked becoming more relaxed again.   
"Frank," he responded less confidently than he wished he had.   
"Wanna sit with me?" Gerard asked, using his hand to show all the empty sitting spots. "My friends are watching the band and I could use some company."


End file.
